


If I Could Go Back

by swampgallows



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: AU Draenor, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampgallows/pseuds/swampgallows
Summary: Sometimes even love at first sight takes a few tries.This pairing was randomly assigned and written as part of Auri's Cracktoberfest in the Warcraft Hell Discord server.





	If I Could Go Back

Sylvanas Windrunner had lamented the loss of the ruins of Lordaeron. As the air turned colder and the time of Hallow's End approached, Nathanos Blightcaller knew she missed it now more than ever. No wickerman, no costumes, no stink bombs. Well, unless you counted the clouds of blight still billowing in the courtyard.

 

"If only I could go back," he had heard her murmur, and he had an idea.

 

Nathanos had heard stories of an artifact: a shard of the Vision of Time. Though most of the fragments were protected in Azeroth, there was one that remained in the alternate Draenor from which their recent Mag'har allies were recruited. If he could secure this asset, the Undercity could be restored and all of their problems would be solved. He knew this would be the ultimate weapon, and he knew the Dark Lady would reward him handsomely.

 

Now, as he beheld the opalescent makeshift dagger—painted rust with dried dragon blood—in his grubby hands, Nathanos swore he could hear her shrill and nasal voice warbling in the otherworldly winds.

 

"A fine job once again, my pet," he dreamed, the compliment sounding as if it were strained through mucus and a nose-bridge clothespin. "A fine job, had you not done so WITHOUT my PERMISSION!"

 

He guiltily fantasized about a slap across the face from her spindly hand culminating in a screech. Ah, the only sound more satisfying than her banshee wail was the tinnitus that set in his ears afterward...

With a pleasant sigh, he started to saunter off to accept his tandem reward and punishment. Until, however, his keen hunter senses kicked in. He knew he was being watched.

 

In a start he whirled around, red and empty eyes darting in search of the predator. There was a flash, and upon the verdant fields of Nagrand stood a single gnome.

She was adorned in golden ornamentation, her hair swirled up in buns. Her brilliant emerald eyes glittered as they focused upon him. Nathanos practically felt his musty trenchcoat being drycleaned by her sparkling gaze.

A paltry distraction. This new arrival would deter him from his mission none. She would be swiftly dealt with.

Although... what a pure tiny creampuff she was. Blightcaller had not tasted anything in years, but the mere cotton candy scent of her tingled his memories of sugar.

 

He licked his hand with his crusty tongue and ran it through his greasy, already-slicked hair, leaving his hand more grimy than it was before.

 

"Why, small creature, I hadn't seen you there."

  
"I know. The first time you did, and it didn't work out so well, and so I wee wee wee wee—"

 

He couldn't focus on her words. Barely words at all—more like squeaks, like air escaping a tiny cut in a Darkmoon balloon. He was enraptured.

 

"—and I knew you would tune out just then too."

 

She was right. Nathanos blinked and looked around warily, still clutching the shard. This sweet gnome was the antithesis of all that he craved from the Dark Lady; she was short, soft, bright, smiling... and best of all, her voice was like a high-powered drill straight into his eardrum, whereas Sylvanas was but nails on a chalkboard. How wrong it was to compare his Queen to this gnome he had only just met! Yet despite her appearance, his vertically-challenged acquaintance radiated an enormous, world-altering power. He was a feeling a bit of the ol' rigor mortis, if you catch his drift.

 

Nathanos' dry tongue shot out across his flaky lips. The draw he felt toward her was immense. Uncouth, even. What magic was this?

 

She shuffled over to him with a big smile, and right then he plunged the shard into her shoulder.

 

"AUGH! Not again," the gnome huffed. Despite bleeding profusely, she clapped her weird little four-fingered baby hands and shouted, "DO OVER!"

 

Nathanos appeared some feet away, raking his dirty hand through his thin, oily hair.

 

"Why, small creature, I hadn't seen you there."

  
"I know," she sighed, body unscathed. "I hope I didn't startle you."

  
"Not at all. Though I can't say I had been expecting anyone else in this area."

  
"Well, I can be anywhere at any time!" she giggled. "Perhaps you've heard of me! Friends call me Chromie."

 

She offered a hand up to him. _Nathanos Blightcaller._ This festering hunk of a man was so irresistable to her. Throughout all the times and places and people she had seen, there was nothing more alluring to her than a man who defied the currents of the oceans of time; a man who existed beyond his individual form, beyond any individual purpose, and beyond even death.

Bronze dragons had a hard time conceiving death: with so many timeways available, there was no concept of a concrete beginning or end to anything, including themselves. This was a sentiment shared by the Forsaken. Nathanos was so ambivalently nihilistic about his existence because he was already dead; to him, there was no difference between life or death. And that was SO sexy.

 

Unfortunately, his curdled hands remained at his side, one gripping a shard of the Vision of Time. "I'm sure you are acquainted with many, erm, friends. Why don't you run along and join them?"

  
"You know, I think we could be very good friends," Chromie said. Her attempt at sounding sultry landed somewhere between a dog yelp and a tearful toddler.

  
"I, er..." Nathanos pointedly folded his hands in front of him, promptly stabbing himself in the nads with the jagged end of the shard.

  
Chromie rolled her eyes. "DO OVER!"

 

There was a short distance between her and Nathanos again. He pushed his nasty molding sausage fingers through his gross drippy receding hairline.

 

"Why, small creature, I hadn't seen you there."

  
"Well, you're about to see me!" Chromie cicada-shrieked, then shifted to her full dragon form. "I am Chronormu. I know why you're here, and I'm not letting the shard leave my sight!"

  
Nathanos took a step backward. "You—a bronze dragon!" He looked surprised, then cackled evilly. Her tenacity stirred his guts. "Then perhaps we can make an arrangement. You may keep watch of the shard should you return to Azeroth with me, and serve the—"

  
"Or," Chromie cut him off. "You could stay here with me."

  
"But, I..." Nathanos looked vulnerable, as if the gnome-dragon could read his mind. "No! M-my loyalty to the Dark Lady is unwavering! I would never! She would be furious, and I wouldn't even get to be around to see it!"

  
"Is that really what you think you deserve, Nathanos?" Her question was so high-pitched it nearly cracked the shard. "Here, you can leave your past behind. You can start a new life." She shrank down to her gnome form in a bright glow and clasped his hands. "With me."

  
"I am not sure." Nathanos loomed over her. "Would this world befit an outcast like me? I am a dark man shrouded in mystery and suffering, grinning on the outside yet dying within. Who would approve of our strange and twisted bond?"

  
By the Aspects, how she loved his goth poetry. "Well, if it doesn't work out, this... IS sort-of a throwaway timeline anyway. We don't have to stay here, or anywhere. We can travel the timeways forever!"

  
"Is there a timeline where you take the form of an elf?"

  
"DO OVER!"


End file.
